First Night
by dhawthorne
Summary: A sequel to my Jean Brodie fic "A Breezy Day". Jean Brodie/Gordon Lowther. Please read and review!


First Night

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Disclaimer: Don't own it.

A/N: The sequel to my fic "A Breezy Day"

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It was late afternoon when Gordon finally began to stir into wakefulness, his lover still curled up next to him, asleep. He quietly got out of bed and looked at her, unable to believe that she had so willingly given herself to him. He left the room for a moment to use the lavatory, and when he returned, Jean was sitting up in his bed, where he joined her.

"Mmm," Jean purred as she snuggled into his embrace. Gordon sighed contentedly as her warm body pressed against his.

"Hello, Jean," he said, kissing her lightly on the forehead. She tilted her face up to his and pulled him down for a kiss. As the kiss grew in passion, she lay back against the goose-feather pillows and encouraged him to lie down on top of her. He did, and she moaned as she felt his erection grow against her thigh.

As she clutched at his back, he slowly guided himself into her, gasping as she pulled him deeper within her. "Jean..." he groaned as she clenched around him, her head falling back in ecstasy. He pushed into her one final time before collapsing on top of her.

They lay there quietly – Gordon nuzzled her hair, and Jean tried not to cry. Why was she settling for second best? She could have Teddy, she knew that she could, but she would not let herself have an affair with a married man.

"I love you, Jean," he whispered in her ear, kissing her hair lightly. She did begin to cry then – she felt so guilty for not loving Gordon – Gordon, who loved her, who wanted to take care of her, make her happy.

"What's wrong, Jean, darling?" he asked her, eminently concerned.

She turned in his arms, burying her face against his bare chest. "Nothing," she said, her voice muffled.

He gripped her shoulders and held her back from him. "Please, Jean," he begged her. "What's wrong?"

"I don't deserve to be so happy," she lied, still crying. "I'm an awful woman, and I don't deserve to be with you."

"Oh, Jean," Gordon sighed. "You do deserve to be happy, and, if anything, it is I who don't deserve to be with you. I love you, Jean," he said. "I've loved you for a long time, and I'd almost given up hope on my chances with you. I am just so grateful that you are here with me."

She began to cry harder at that, clutching him as she sobbed her heart out. She cried for her lost youth, her dead fiancé, the love she had forsaken... And he held her as she cried, stroking her hair, whispering words of comfort to her.

She eventually regained control over her emotions, and looked up at him. "I'm sorry, Gordon," she whispered, and he looked down at her, an expression of tenderness on his face.

"It's all right, Jean, darling," he told her, stroking her hair. "It's all right."

She snuggled closer to him, smiling as he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. If she closed her eyes, she could almost believe that it was Teddy holding her...

"Will you stay with me tonight, Jean?" Gordon asked her, dispelling her fantasy of lying in Teddy's embrace.

"Yes," she said simply. "But you'll need to drive me back to my flat in the morning before school so that I can get my things," she added.

"Why don't we go over now?" he suggested, and she nodded her assent. He released her from his embrace, and they got dressed.

"Why don't you stay over at my flat tonight, Gordon?" she asked. "It would look suspicious if you drove me to school in the morning – I think that it would be better if you stayed the night at my flat, rather than me staying the night here. What would your housekeeper think, after all?" she asked.

He nodded. "All right. Let me just gather my things, then," he said, finishing getting dressed and gathering his things for the next day.

"I'm ready, Gordon," she said when she had finished getting dressed several minutes later. She had also gathered the frock she had worn to Kirk.

"I am, too," he replied, and they walked to his car. He held the door open for her, and she slid in gracefully, smiling at him.

"I do love you, Jean," he said as they drove into Edinburgh. He held her right hand in his left one as they drove to her flat.

"I know you do, Gordon," she replied.

When they arrived at her flat, Gordon parked on the street and helped her out of the car. He had never been inside of her flat before. She led him up to the second floor and turned her key in the lock. Opening the door, she stepped inside before turning back to Gordon, who was standing just outside of her flat.

"Won't you come in, Gordon?" she asked him. He smiled bashfully and crossed over the threshold, and she closed and locked the door behind him.

She led him into the parlour. "Well, Gordon," she said. "Would you like to see the rest of the flat?"

"Yes, I would," he replied.

"All right. This is the parlour, obviously," she said, before leading him down the hallway. "This is the kitchen, this is the lavatory, and this..." she said, flinging open a door, "is the bedroom."

Her bedroom was decorated in soft, soothing pastels, prints of Botticelli's _La Primavera_ and several prints of Giotto's frescos adorning the walls. In the centre of the room was a large four-poster bed, which Jean approached. Kicking off her shoes, she began to undress herself, watching Gordon as she shed her clothes.

"Would you like to make love to me again, Gordon?" she asked him, watching as his pupils dilated. He strode towards the bed, undressing himself as well.

"Oh, yes," he replied, pushing her down onto the bed.

She grabbed the headboard of the bed, gripping it tightly as he entered her forcefully. He gripped her hips firmly as he began to thrust within her, filled with passion for the woman in his arms.

"Jean, Jean, Jean," he shouted as he thrust into her.

"Gordon!" she cried as she began to come. It took all of her self-control not to take Teddy's name.

"Jean!" he called out once more and collapsed on top of her. She held him tightly to her, combing her fingers through his hair.

"Oh, Gordon," she murmured. "You are wonderful, so wonderful," she told him, trying to make up for her fit of sobbing earlier.

"So are you, my darling Jean – so are you," he whispered back to her. She reached over and wound her alarm clock, before snuggling up to him again and falling asleep. He fell asleep as well, soothed by the feel of Jean's steady heartbeat, her body against his, the sound of her even breathing. He fell asleep and dreamed of their future together.


End file.
